


Second Chance

by yukiartsa



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Spoilers I guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 04:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiartsa/pseuds/yukiartsa
Summary: A mysterious lavender-haired half-Saiyan arrives on Vampa, saying that he wants to protect Broly and his friends. But when he finds himself getting closer to Broly, why does he push him away with such a sad expression?





	Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> when you’re total garbage, so you decide to write a xenoverse!trunks/dbs!broly fic ;w;
> 
> xenoverse means you can basically connect canon with non-canon, so imma exploit this to my advantage <3

While Cheelai wasn’t strong like Broly or clever like Lemo, she was the curious one of the group. Vampa was a massive planet that consisted mostly of barren wastelands and parasitic lifeforms, but for the planet to still remain, there had to be some reason, right? For there to be clouds, one needed water vapour; water. No matter how small the source might be, it wasn’t as if Broly and Paragus had been living off the blood of what they killed for hydration — it didn’t make sense.

The Saiyan couldn’t give Cheelai an answer when she asked about any strange places on this planet — aside from the entire ball of dust being unnatural in its own right, Broly was also hesitant on sharing much about his past; perhaps coming back here had brought back bad memories, or he didn’t want to think about the fate of his father who raised him here, but Lemo suggested she drop the subject for everyone’s sakes.

And so Cheelai had spent her time trekking around the planet, charting out its craters and caverns for future reference; there were areas the creatures ignored, or couldn’t reach, and it would be advantageous to recall these if a dire situation were to arise… Not that it would, of course, but after all that had happened, she didn’t want to push Broly to fight unless he had to. Hiding wasn’t cowardly if it meant you would survive, after all.

It was amidst one of her travels that her scouter caught sign of new life on the planet; there was no explanation as to how it had been missed (or how it even survived on this planet), but Cheelai braced herself to fight nonetheless. She ducked underneath a rock, preparing her blaster before a voice echoed through the air.

“Hello? I know someone’s here, I can sense your energy,” the stranger called out, as if greeting someone on the street. The casual voice didn’t seem threatening, but Cheelai wasn’t going to let her guard down so easily.

Her scouter followed the lifeform — taller than herself and Lemo, but he didn’t even reach Broly’s height — as it walked around, as if expecting Cheelai to be so foolish as to come out of hiding.

Their power level was only 1,500 — half of her’s since she’d taken up training to help out Broly — but the alien stayed put, picking up a new arrival. The parasitic leeches had come crawling out of the woodwork, likely disturbed by the noise. She could take one down by herself, but against a swarm of them, this guy wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I forgot about these guys,” the stranger murmured, removing something from their body (presumedly a coat), and unsheathed a blade from his back. Their power level begun ticking upwards, to the point that Cheelai couldn’t follow how quickly the digits changed, as the stranger made quick work of his foes, unfazed once Cheelai came out, pointing her gun at his head. He hadn’t sustained any injuries, nor had he broken a sweat; just who — or what — was this guy?

“Don’t move,” she warned, her voice firm and her gaze fixed on his back. “Put down your weapon and slide it back to me, or I’ll fill you with enough holes to become a fly swatter.”

The stranger cooperated without hesitation, slipping off his now sheathed sword (which he had hanging off his shoulder), and sat it down carefully, kicking it back towards Cheelai.

“You’re with Broly, right?” They asked, and Cheelai’s grip on her blaster tightened.

“Who wants to know?”

“It might be easier if I tell all of you—“

“Why would I take you back to our base?”

“Well, I know for a fact that you won’t be able to carry these corpses back by yourself.”

Cheelai raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying that you’ll carry these guys back if it means you can meet Broly? What kind of an idiot are you?”

“You haven’t shot me yet, so I guess that’s still up for debate.”

“I’ve got plenty of reason to kill you nonetheless.”

“And what would that accomplish?”

Cheelai gritted her teeth. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit…” She pointed her gun, firing consecutive blasts straight at the guy. If this guy wasn’t going to say why he wanted to see Broly, then Cheelai had no reason to take him there.

Yet, despite Cheelai’s impeccable aim, the stranger had turned faster than she could follow, hands blocking each blast without a care. The lavender-haired stranger, who had appeared in a thick brown trench coat, looked to Cheelai expectantly, not a mark on his hands to suggest he’d taken direct gunfire from a state-of-the-art blaster.

He threw the corpse of one of the insects over one shoulder, while his other hand grabbed a second by its leg to drag it along. Cheelai stared, confused, especially when he asked, “Could you carry my coat please?” as if nothing had happened, and begun to walk away from the scene of the carnage effortlessly with two beasts in tow.

Whether or not it was the best judgement she could make, Cheelai sighed in frustration, following behind whilst still pointing the blaster at the guy’s back.

* * *

Trunks had been expecting to be bombarded with questions the moment he arrived with the green-skinned alien, but it appeared that wasn’t the main concern at hand. As he dropped off the remains of the slain creatures, he caught the gaze of the other inhabitants of Vampa; an older-looking orange alien, and a dark-skinned Saiyan, both of which looked at the pair confused.

Cheelai threw the coat on the ground, before pointing her gun into Trunks’ back. “Take it all off.”

“P-Pardon?”

“What the hell are you doing, Cheelai?” The orange one asked, seemingly ignored as the blaster was pressed deeper into his back.

“Your clothes. All of them. Take them off and throw them on the ground, now.” Her voice hadn’t wavered; whatever she was thinking, it seemed like she wouldn’t be satisfied until Trunks did what he was told.

“Could you back up a bit?” He asked, thankful when the blaster was removed from his back. In exchange, he pulled off his black singlet top that he wore underneath the coat, and threw it to the ground.

Lemo let out a long whistle, looking Trunks over. “Is this guy a Saiyan or something?”

“I’m half-Saiyan, half-human,” Trunks responded, feeling uncomfortable at the eyes staring at him; Broly walked around without a shirt on, so why was he getting so much attention from this guy?

The raven in question was silent, watching carefully, as if expecting to learn something. It was strangely innocent, a side Trunks never had much chance to see—

“Keep going,” Cheelai ordered. “If you’re carrying some kind of tracker or something on you, the assholes who sent you will stop looking once they see what I do to you.”

“Geez, talk about ruthless…” Lemo commented, although he couldn’t refute her logic; they were wanted criminals, so if this guy was some kind of scout, he’d have to be taken out immediately.

Trunks didn’t argue, quick to slip off his boots and socks (Broly seemed curious about those), remove his belt, and started to unbutton his pants before his face burned with colour. “D-Do you really have to be here while I’m doing this?”

“What, are you shy?” Cheelai joked, although Trunks was hardly up for such a tease.

“O-Of course not!” The teen had stammered, although by his hesitation, it was clearly a lie.

“Cheelai, go wait inside the house,” Lemo sighed, taking her blaster. “As soon as he’s got his pants off and he’s sitting down, you can come back, alright?”

While it wasn’t the most desirable of compromises, Cheelai had agreed, and Trunks awkwardly removed the remainder of his clothing; his baggy black pants and underwear were added to the pile, and he quickly sat down before either male could get a proper look at Trunks’ figure.

The green-skinned alien returned, uninterested in how embarrassed Trunks was (sitting in a cave, nude, surrounded by strangers), thoroughly inspecting his belongings. “I doubt he’d have anything on his body that we didn’t see,” she murmured, turning the coat inside-out.

“A-Are you done now?!” The teen squeaked, becoming increasingly tense as Broly watched him with piqued interest; despite being a half-Saiyan, Trunks still had his tail, a lilac, puffed up appendage that expressed his nervousness clearer than his face could. “C-Can I finally explain myself to you already?!”

“Alright, fine… I’ve had my revenge, anyway,” Cheelai said with a grin, pleased that Trunks had lost the difficult attitude from when she’d first met him. “You can put on your coat, but that’s all. I already got a good look through your pockets coming back, but I still need to check everything else.”

While Broly begun examining Trunks’ socks, the time traveller wrapped his coat around himself protectively. “M-My name is Trunks, I’m a member of the Galactic Patrol. I was sent here to protect you guys.”

Cheelai raised an eyebrow. “The Galactic Patrol? Why would you guys go out of your way for Broly?” Her previous history with the group had made the alien a little more hesitant than Lemo to trust what Trunks was saying; Frieza was the bigger fish to fry, after all, unless they were after her now that she was out of the Frieza Force. But even then, it didn’t make sense to involve Broly and Lemo in her past affairs, so why?

“After the fight, our reports suggest that Frieza is looking to recruit Broly again, to take down Vegeta and Goku for good. But he’s looking to delay this until Broly can maintain his power levels.”

“So he’s expecting Broly to just simmer down?” Lemo quizzed, stopping the Saiyan from sniffing Trunks’ socks out of curiosity. “Then what? Does he think he’ll just sign up after that?”

“Of course not!” Cheelai answered her companion with a huff. “That’s not his style! He’ll probably make a show of sending chumps to fight him, and then snag Broly when the time’s right!”

Trunks, however, shook his head. “That’s… not what we speculate.” He pulled his coat tighter around himself, looking to the cavern floor. “The truth behind Planet Vegeta, where the Saiyans originated from, was that Frieza destroyed the planet in fears of a rebellion. Initially, he expected that would be the end of it, but after learning of Goku’s capabilities, Frieza’s taken up a more defensive stance.”

The mention of the home planet made Broly pause, watching Trunks with a sense of interest in his eyes. While he’d never seen Planet Vegeta, he’d always been curious why his father had abandoned their home. Why had he gone so far to save Broly? Was he really after revenge, or was he afraid of leaving his son to die?

“We believe that Frieza will likely give Broly an ultimatum; he can choose to join Frieza without hesitation, or… Frieza will destroy all of Vampa, including you and Lemo,” Trunks murmured. “If Broly were to refuse, it’s likely that the planet will be attacked when he’s at his most vulnerable. If Broly were to fight back, it’s possible that he may destroy the planet in his rage. While he might kill Frieza, the two of you could be killed, and Broly may lose his sense of control.”

The two attentive aliens stared at Trunks wide-eyed; Broly had tuned out following the spiel of unfamiliar terms, and instead looked at more of Trunks’ possessions with newfound curiosity.

“You can’t be serious…” Lemo breathed, as Cheelai reaffirmed that Broly hadn’t been listening (they didn’t want him to snap again with the concept of his friends being harmed). “So in other words, you’re saying that we’re all at risk here?”

“Can’t we just move off-planet?” Cheelai suggested hopefully, although she knew it was unlikely.

“Your lives — and the planet you move to — would still be at risk,” Trunks explained sadly. “And it’s unlikely that Vegeta and Goku would be capable of defending the three of you and Vampa from both his soldiers and anything Frieza might throw at the planet.”

Lemo clicked his tongue, while Cheelai’s wore a pained expression. It wasn’t like they could rely on Broly forever, they knew that; but if Trunks was right in saying that Frieza would likely order a full-fledged strike (which certainly did sound likely), the pair could think of a dozen different ways they could be defeated. Separated, overpowered, attacked from behind, tricked or trapped, all these were possibilities that could very likely happen.

“As I said, that’s why I’m here in the first place,” Trunks said finally, in an attempt to brighten the mood. “I was dispatched here to help fend off Frieza; I’ve been requested to limit the casualties of the inhabitants of this planet, including you and the animals that live here. If Frieza does attack, I can fight back, and if it comes down to it, you three can escape. If Broly’s high power level disappears off their radars — that is, if he isn’t prompted to fight — then Frieza will assume he’s been defeated, and leave you alone.”

Although there were questions to be had, Trunks’ brief explanation made sense. They couldn’t fight back against Frieza, there wasn’t a chance that they’d all survive, even if they relied on help from the Saiyans on Earth. And if Broly’s power level was kept from spiking after an attack made, then it was certainly possible that Frieza would give up chase for the group.

But the way in which Trunks spoke, Cheelai noted, it hardly sounded like he was being a good samaritan. It was really quite the opposite, it sounded as if Trunks was determined to help them, regardless of any mission he’d been given. As if he was willing to fight to the death for them.

“But why?” She found herself asking. “Why are you going so far for us? We’re wanted criminals, and Broly’s a danger all on his own. Why would someone in the Galactic Patrol go to such lengths?”

The teen was quiet, wondering how he should answer. He wasn’t supposed to reveal his true mission here, but surely they deserved to know his personal intentions, right? After a moment of consideration, however, he dropped that line of thought. No, he wanted to avoid talking about that time if at all possible.

“I study the ecosystems of planets,” Trunks responded finally, “and I want to preserve this planet if at all possible. That includes you guys. I don’t want Frieza to destroy more lives than he already has.”

It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth, either. Should he feel guilty because of that? Regardless, it seemed like this was an acceptable answer (for the time being), and Cheelai sat back with a sigh.

“Fine. If it’s for Broly and Vampa, I’m willing to comply.” She said, with which Lemo agreed. “But don’t think for a second that I trust you completely, Trunks.”

The teen could only nod. He didn’t expect them to think of him as a friend; he felt like he didn’t quite deserve that title. Was he an acquaintance, then? An ally? No, those all suggested that they knew him.

They didn’t know Trunks; at least, they knew only what Trunks wanted them to believe. That still made them strangers; strangers with a common goal in mind.


End file.
